


Cold

by thedork101



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Male or Female you decide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 02:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11819100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedork101/pseuds/thedork101
Summary: The point is, Yoosung said a lot of things and they were all freaking wrong.





	Cold

**Author's Note:**

> so uh
> 
> it's short and it sucks
> 
> WOOHOO

It'll be fun he said. 

It's not that cold he said. 

Your tongue won't freeze he said (he also said he’d warm it up with his own if it ever did, but you refuse to think of that any longer in fear of him seeing your crimson cheeks). 

The point is, Yoosung said a lot of things and they were all freaking wrong.

The impromptu request for ice cream wasn't helping with your mood either; its cold sweetness melting on your taste buds does nothing to appease the shudder in your bones and the rattling of your teeth. Yoosung had also suggested sitting outside of the ice cream parlor despite the harsh wind and terrible chill, a request you had stupidly agreed to for whatever reason. 

Stupid puppy eyes...

“I-I am going to k-kill you Yoosung,” you say through gritted teeth, shivering profusely as you shovel another spoonful of your ice cream into your mouth. “I-I’m seriously gonna throw your b-body off a bridge a-and…!” The blonde next to you looks absolutely horrified by the empty threats, the gloved hand holding his spoon stopping in its tracks and left mid-air. 

His bottom lip juts out into an infuriatingly cute and overall irresistible pout, your breath stuttering at the sight of it. “I'm sorry ______!”, he cries in dismay, gathering the attention of fellow patrons. You quickly slap a bare hand over his mouth to shut him up, the spoon falling from his lax fingers and, luckily, into his cup. 

“Hush!”, you whisper through thinned lips, scarlet rising up your neck. He watches the change of color with interest, eyes briefly flickering over your pretty features when he was done basking in your embarrassment. You feel Yoosung’s hand clamp around your bare wrist, his warmth burning through the thick fabric of his mitten and relieving your ice cold skin. Your eyes soften, entranced by his stare as he carefully pulls at your wrist, your hand slipping away from his mouth, pink lips curved into a lovely smile and it's all for you, just for you, only you. 

“Thank you.”, he says and you marvel at the length of his lashes, the faint freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose, scattered upon his cheeks. “For what?” There’s a crack in your question, voice a little hoarse, and when you try pulling away from his grip Yoosung grabs your hand. Brings it to his face and keeps it cupped on his cheek. Your fingers are icy, your palm even more so, but he doesn't seem to mind, his smile widening and there's warmth pooling in your gut. 

“For eating ice cream with me,” he hums, his thumb rubbing circles into your knuckles. “I know how much you hate being cold.” Yoosung’s smile turns cheeky and you wonder who influenced him this much because you remember when the simplest of flirty comments used to send him running. But now? 

“Since you hate it so much, I guess it's my job now to warm you up.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
